The Heroes of Kvatch
by DovahkiinDerpy
Summary: Three heroes emerge from the darkness to save the world from the threat coming from Oblivion. A nimble thief named Onyx with a dark past, a fierce warrior named Sven who is fighting a battle of his own, and a mage named Sevyina who hides a lot under her magical exterior. And upon their meeting, will the world be saved, or will the world have to fight them as well?


OBLIVION

1.

THE THIEF

The night sky shone beautifully above Riften, an oasis above the troubled land. Onyx could see every one of the diamond-like stars, twinkling and sparkling, from a hole above the Ragged Flagon, where she had made a special wooden platform to stand on, high off the ground, just to look at the sky at night. She would look at the moon and the stars, sometimes see clouds, rain and lightning, and lose herself to the stunning view above her. She always had a sore neck at the end of it though. It was worth it.

Tomorrow night, she was going to see it all again, but actually being outside. She hadn't been outside in seventeen years. She was a thief and stuck to the shadows. She moved through the shadows, always with one of the bosmer Thieves Guild members, and the voice in the back of her head, through the sewers into people's houses, where they would take anything worth stealing, and never get caught.

"_Because that's the only way we can do it. The bosmer that run the Skyrim chapter of the Guild won't let us leave."_

Like a tragic children's story, she was basically trapped like a rat, here in the Ratway. But that was the price for her, she reckoned, for living. What would have it been like if she hadn't fled from home? She would either be dead, or stuck in a cult. And from what she had heard about the cult, she would've picked the former over the latter.

Onyx probably didn't have a remarkable life compared to any of the member's of the Guild. She was born with the name Clover Strongheart, with hopes that her eyes would be as green as her mother's, her hair and skin as pale as her father's, and she would have the fierce warrior's soul of both her parents. Instead she was blue eyed, pale thin girl with short pink hair. Her mother Tanith Strongheart was a previous student of the College of Winterhold, and had adored alchemy. An elixir for a sneezing fit while she was pregnant went wrong, and she had to get it fixed. The elixir didn't stop her sneezing, but made her soon to be daughter's hair pink. She had three older brothers, who were triplets, Tyr, Mercer and Sytr, and the whole family was followers of Sanguine, and was rewarded with the infamous Sanguine Rose. They had left their home in Bruma, to return to Skyrim, leave the Daedra worshipping behind, when disaster struck.

"_Ah, this part. I love this part."_

"_Shut up."_

"_You can't make me leave. I'm you. I'm the voice in your head that makes you do bad things, you crazy lunatic."_

Tyr was killed halfway back to Skyrim. Tanith stayed in Cyrodiil with the body. The Rose was stolen. Mercer ran away to Dawnstar. Father and Sytr converted to the Mythic Dawn.

"_All in one day. Are you sure our life isn't remarkable, Clover?"_

"_My name is Onyx Swordheart. You are just a voice in my head, a figment of my imagination."_

"_Yes yes 'Onyx', the name you choose for us when you left home, just a mere week after Tyr died. And you did what? Flee to Riften? We nearly died, you stupid girl. Those bosmer took you, trained you to be what you are today. That was seventeen years ago. We were six years old. Not going outside for over a decade is just a small price to pay for this life."_

"_I didn't want this life."_

"_But you enjoy it. You can lie to yourself but you can't lie to me. Because when we leave Riften, go back to Cyrodiil, back to Bruma, we are going to do the job required, then come back to this squalid haven."_

"_Stop saying that 'we' are going to do it. I'm the only one here, Voice."_

"_Stop the denial, you love my input."_

"_I'm not going to reply to you anymore."_

"_Bye then."_

Onyx hopped off the platform, landing on her feet to the stony ground below. She couldn't deny that she was going to do the job and return, but she was going to make the most of it. It was going to be her twenty third birthday in a few weeks, and she wanted to spend it in the place she truly called home, not in this prison. She wanted every second to feel as long as a minute. But what she truly desired in Cyrodiil was family. Questions circled in her head. Was Tanith going to be there, in the old family home, a bottle of spiced wine in one hand, the other glowing with dangerous magic? Did Mercer leave Dawnstar to come back to her, or did he join Father and Sytr with their Mythic Dawn evil?

Were any of them still alive?

Mother was walking towards Onyx. Everyone called Bryna 'Mother', even her own mother did. A tall, slender elf, half bosmer, a quarter altmer and a quarter dumner, she towered over all her Guild. A remarkable Guild Master, while most of the other Provinces of Tamriel had Guild Masters that were stern males, usually not of mer or beast races, who wore the armor of the Guild, Mother wore dresses that shone with elegance within the dirty hovel they all shared. A circlet of gold and sapphires sat upon her wavy long ivory hair. She had golden skin and amber eyes that sparkled with sternness. If she didn't know who Mother was, she might've mistaken her for an elven Queen.

"_Remember, she's the reason why you can't call Tanith 'Mother' anymore."_

Mother suddenly snapped her palm backward, letting magic curl up around her hand; a stream of red sparks flew out of her palm, spiraling forwards, just past Onyx. The stream hit a young dumner male just behind her, burning his chest with the beautiful energy. His body crumpled forwards and when he hit the ground he was just a burnt up corpse.

"He was leaking details of a major heist in Morrowind to the authorities," Mother said in response to Onyx's shocked expression "and I just kicked him off the team.

Now, my dear, dear child of the shadows, it has been close to seventeen years since I first laid eyes on you. All those years before when you were nearly dead because of the cruel nature that the world has to offer, and tomorrow you are going back into the cruelness. I am surprised that you have lasted here in Riften, not even seeing the world grow above you. Dagoth Ur was slain whilst you've been here. You don't even know who that is. You could ask the corpse behind you, but he obviously cannot answer your questions, and speaking of it is too mundane for myself.

You came here a small child, full with desire to live a life anew. Now you are a grown woman, thin but strong, intelligent yet curious. You have only seen the sky above through a hole in the ceiling, which might be deemed cruel to most, but to me it is perfect. You are the only one I have truly taught in the arts of thievery. The majority of the bosmer in here I have taught, but not to your extent. The other races I couldn't care enough to even show them how to pick a lock. But when I first saw you and your extraordinary hair, I saw promise. One day you are going to rival even the Grey Fox. Because I believe in you."

"Mother, just get to the point" a short one-eyed khajiit shouted.

"Fine. I would continue pointing out how much I respect you, and how you probably come first before a majority of the Guild, except obviously myself and my mother, or how you are the only one I praise and stuff of the like, and you have had to stay inside for your own good, but I better tell you what you need to do in Bruma.

Steal the Countesses' Akavari artifacts, and other goods you can sell to a fence. Don't get caught, and don't go off onto a quest or something stupid like that. You know what happens to people who don't follow orders.

Now get prepared for tomorrow. Shadow hide you."

Onyx felt alien it the clothes she was wearing to Cyrodiil. She was borrowing one of Mother's dresses, a blue velvet gown that was adorned with numerous colorful gems. She wore gold-trimmed shoes with foreign designs sewn onto them. She had a dagger hidden in her purse, which hung off her shoulder, and a bow with silver arrows strapped to her back. She also wore a hooded cloak, black as night. She already had the hood up. She followed Mother up through the passageways through the Ratway, the ones that lead to the surface. Onyx felt giddy and nervous, but an overwhelming excitement took over her. Mother opened the wooden door and bade her to step outside.

It was night, yet the light stung Onyx's eyes. She looked at her hands, seeing how pale they were in the moonlight. A desire to laugh was burning at the back of her mind, so she did just that. How long had it been since she had laughed like this? She was a child again, six years old, before her life had fallen apart before her eyes.

A breeze flitted past her, sending a strand of pink into her eyes.

Mother lead Onyx through the city. It looked so peaceful at this time of night. During the day she would occasionally hear people in the market, selling their wares, and at night some drunken brawls. She saw no alcoholics fighting tonight. Her grin grew wider. Mother lead her out of the city, through the gate and to the stables, where a majestic ash grey horse stood, waiting just for them.

"Sorrow knows her way to Cyrodiil, and she will not stop until she gets to her destination. Your first stop is to just a bit past the border, where an old friend of mine will give you some supplies. Then Sorrow will take you to Bruma, where all the fun begins. Are you ready?"

Onyx's heart was beating fast. "Yes."

"Then go forward, child of shadows, to the land of your adopted birth. Steal as much as you can, try not to get caught. Don't forget you must lock your door as you sleep; you cause mayhem as you rest your eyes. Good luck. Shadow hide you."

Onyx hopped on to Sorrow, gave Mother a wave, and then rode off into the night.


End file.
